


Shadowtale

by ThatCanadianDude



Category: Shadowrun, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Gen, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 15:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7111588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatCanadianDude/pseuds/ThatCanadianDude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a different Underground, where massive corporations run everything, from public opinion to what products you can buy from the local hot dog stand, some folk chose to live outside the system, taking jobs that fall outside the legal spectrum. Two skeletal brothers are more than happy to take this option. They are Sans and Papyrus. They are Shadowrunners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As he lay down in the cool, damp grass, staring up at the sky, the feeling of the sun warming his bones, he couldn’t help but be wistful.

_This is reality,_ he thought to himself. The thought was comforting, but also... hollow.

His boney fingers grabbed a handful of grass. It felt real. As he let go, the dew remained on his hand. It shined in the light of the sun, and he could see a rainbow of colours on his hoodie.  
  
It felt real -- too real. The colours were too vibrant. The sun was too warm, and the dew was too wet.

It was with that thought in mind that the sudden deceleration and eventual stop of the ambient sound came crashing around him. The feeling of warmth the sun had provided ceased, and the dew crystallized before vanishing completely. As he watched, the sky zipped off into the horizon, followed by the ground beneath his feet, vanishing into a single point until he was alone, trapped in a black void of nothingness.

“... _Sans... Sans...”_

Slowly, he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a flashing, neon red scarf. Then, he got a better look at the grinning, boney head above it.

“Ugh, my head... Good morning, Papyrus.”

“Morning?” Papyrus questioned, his scarf flashing as he spoke. “Sans, it’s 3 in the afternoon?”

“Oh,” Sans responded as he sat up, rubbing his eye sockets. “Good afternoon, then.”

Papyrus gave a small ‘nyeh’ of disapproval as he tossed something onto the coffee table next to Sans’ favorite sleeping couch. It landed amongst a collection of paper plates stained red and empty bottles labelled ‘SoyChup’. Sans made a mental note of it as he reached up and removed the metallic headband he had strapped around his head. He grabbed the smartphone-looking device sitting beside him on the couch, and unplugged the headband before tossing it onto the table a well.

“We were supposed to be at Grillby’s an hour ago, brother,” Papyrus stated as he went to the curtained window. “If I hadn’t been in the middle of crafting my Underground-Famous spaghetti, I would have woken you sooner.”

“Just an hour?” came Sans’ response as he walked over to his brother. “We’ve been later than that. Hell, we leave now, and Grillbz will probably be shocked at how early we arrived.”

“Be that as it may, the Great Papyrus loathes to leave a potential employer hanging when they require our particular brand of problem solving,” he said as he reached up and threw open the curtains.

As the window was exposed, the apartment was bathed in the glow of a thousand neon lights. As snow softly fell around the dozens upon hundreds of ceilingscrapers that dotted the city of Snowdin, an advertisement for TemShop floated past the window, advertising body armors.

“I think the advertisements are losing their touch. I saw the exact same one last week,” Sans mused aloud.

“Or maybe they think your shirt is broken, since you never wash it,” Papyrus replied, a tinge of annoyance in his words.

“Hey,” Sans protested with mock-indignation, looking down at his off-white sweater and its tiny smiling Temmie Badge, “it’s taken me quite some time to give this hoodie the character it has now.”

“I agree,” Papyrus retorted as he moved towards the apartment door. “It has so much character that it’s on the verge of walking away on its own.”

Sans chuckled as he followed Papyrus towards the door. “Well, you can’t blame me. The chip that tells me when it needs washing broke.”

“It broke because you smashed it when you were getting sick of the constant commlink messages it was sending you telling you to wash it,” Papyrus shot back as he grabbed a blue trench coat lined with discreet metal plates.

“Oh darn,” Sans responded, “here I was hoping I could make a _clean_ getaway.”

Papyrus shouted in frustration before letting himself out.

Sans was about to follow suit when he remembered his brother’s disapproving toss. Heading back to the table, he looked among the empty bottles and dirty plates. Sitting there was what his brother had thrown; a small computer chip. Reaching down, he grabbed and slipped it into his pocket before making his way out of the apartment.

As the brothers emerged onto the street, the smell of smog lay thickly in the air, and the hum of neon lights mixed with the sounds of distant traffic.

“Alright, I have the Thundersnail parked out back. You good on your own, bro?” Sans asked as he scanned the street.

“Way ahead of you, brother!” Papyrus said, jogging in place. He pulled out his commlink to check the clock and placed a finger to his neck. After a few seconds, he recalled he didn’t have a pulse, and took his finger back. As he jogged in place, his legs slowly moved faster and faster until they became a blur, a golden haze emanating from them. “Race you there?”

Sans shook his head. “Nah. I’d never beat you, bro. You’re too fast for me. I’ll catch up, alright?”

Papyrus sighed. “Very well. I shall save our spot,” he responded, before setting off down the street at the speed of a moderately moving truck. He ended up running into traffic, and the sounds of twisted metal and car alarms rang down the street.

A buzzing in Sans’ pocket caught his attention. He pulled out the commlink he’d been hooked into earlier. He pressed the screen a few times, and a familiar message flashed up.

I’M ALRIGHT!

Sans let out a small laugh before pocketing the commlink and making his way towards the back of the apartment building.

The alleys between the ceilingscrapers of Snowdin were narrow by design. The buildings needed to take up as much room as possible to keep up with the exponentially rising population of the Underground. Sans was a wide guy, and it was unlikely that he could have walked shoulder to shoulder with himself through the alley without getting stuck. But he was alone, and so a leisurely stroll down the alley was viable.

It wasn’t until he started hearing the sounds of clanks and crashes behind a trash can further in that his pace quickened. Narrowly squeezing by the garbage, his annoyances were realized.

Two monsters wielding baseball bats and wearing leather vests were going to town on his vehicle. The vests were emblazoned with a purple muffin with eight spindly legs -- the symbol of the Spyderz Gang.

“Hey, boys. What’s going on here?” Sans called out over the sounds of metal on metal banging. In an instant, the clanging stopped, as both monsters turned to look at him.

“None of your business, jackass,” one of the monsters spat at Sans, brandishing his baseball bat in his direction.

The other chuckled deeply. “Yeah, jackass, none of your business.”

“Well, it seems like my business, as you two gentlemen seem to be going to town on my bike there.”

“Oh, you mean that hunk of metal?” the first one asked, pointing over his shoulder at the dinged up moped behind him. “Well, too damn bad, sunshine! You shouldn’t have left it in Spyderz territory.”  
  
“Yeah,” the other one responded. “This is Spyderz territory. You shouldn’t have left it here.”

“Oh my, is that an echo I hear?” Sans condescendingly remarked, his snarky tone only serving to infuriate them further. “Guess your empty heads must make a good echo chamber.”

“Hey, watch your tongue, buddy!” the first one snapped, pointing his baseball bat in Sans’ direction. “Do you know who we are?”

“A couple of idiot kids who think they’re tough for beating up a defenceless moped?” came Sans reply, as his hand reached up to adjust the zipper on his sweater.

“Oh, that’s it!” the monster shouted as he and his friend marched at Sans, brandishing their bats with their intent clear: his first mistake.

“Come on now, boys,” Sans responded, still fiddling with his zipper. “No need to get violent. How about you two scuttle back home to your mommy, and I’ll pretend this never happened?”

The first monster responded by swinging wide at Sans head: his second mistake.

Without missing a beat, Sans ducked with almost supernatural speed, the swing going over his head and colliding with the other monster’s stomach.

“Augh!” the gangbanger shouted as he keeled over, clutching at his gut in pain.

“Wait, what the...” the first one spluttered out. His thought, however, was interrupted by a loud clicking from behind. He instinctively swung his bat around behind him, only to end up missing as Sans quickly stepped back. After his inept flailing, the monster was greeted by the source of the earlier clicking; a massive revolver aimed right between his eyes.

“You’re clearly new to town,” Sans spoke with a firm grip on his weapon of choice. He looked over at the other monster, now on the ground grabbing his stomach, before looking back to the first, who had a look of shock and terror in his face. He closed his eyes as he continued. “I’m going to give you some advice. There are plenty of folks around this town that would gladly roll over to your tough guy shtick. But you can never really tell who they are at a glance. Maybe they’re just your average joe on the street. Maybe they’re some corporate executive, out for a nice smog filled stroll.

“Or maybe...” Sans spoke, opening his eyes to reveal a blue, glowing left eye, “They’re something else entirely. Folks who get their kicks fighting Royal Guards, or corporate security, or all manner of twisted and powerful things that would make you crack at the mere thought of them. Guys who walk into heavily fortified corporate instillations as a day job. Folks who consider little gangbangers like you not even a warm-up.

“You want some advice kid? Grab your little buddy and leave. You don’t know who you’re messing with. And if there’s one thing to take from our little exchange here, it’s this:  
  
“Never mess with a Shadowrunner. Or you’re gonna have a bad time.”

With this, Sans pulled his gun back, aiming at the sky, and fired a shot into the air. The explosive bang echoed through the alley. The gangbanger went white and grabbed his friend, running blindly down the alley as fast he could carry him.

As a grin of satisfaction plastered itself across his face, Sans slipped the gun back into his sweater, tapping it affectionately as it slid into the sweater’s concealed holster. He placed his hands in his pockets as he walked over to the bright red moped that leaned against the building. It was banged up, sure, but didn’t look any worse than it had when he’d bought it used.

Straddling his Thundersnail, Sans grabbed the handle. It glowed, reading his handprint, before the bike itself sprang to life. A small screen in the handle flashed the Dreemurr Corporation Logo, before a map of Snowdin popped up. A small voice spoke.

“Please state your destination.”

Sans leaned down and spoke back” “NavGrid, take me to Grillby’s, would ya?”

“You have requested.... Chillby’s Restaurant.”

Sans looked at the screen with a bit of agitation. “No, I said take me to Grillby’s Bar. Can you do that?”

“Affirmative. Now plotting course for Filby’s Used Cars. Please sit back and relax, and allow our NavGrid assisted automated driver to...”

The request was stopped by the sudden slamming of Sans’ hand into the screen. A few similar slams and the screen went dead, hanging limply from a few wires. A sigh came through Sans’ teeth as he revved the engine by hand.

“Guess I’m going there the old fashioned way,” he mused to himself, before the moped took off down the alley, the sound of an electric motor that sounded like a hair dryer being the last remnants of his presence.


	2. Chapter 2

The streets of Snowdin hummed with the sounds of a hundred vehicles. Sans looked with no small amount of amusement as dozens of vehicles drove around him with their 'drivers' completely unaware what was going on around them. Some were on their commlinks while others were sleeping at the wheel. At least one, he swore, was just randomly throwing ice cubes out of his window.

Getting to laugh at the people who relied on the NavGrid to get them everywhere wasn't the only advantage to manual driving, of course. More useful was the fact that, unbound to the automated driver, Sans was free to zip around, weaving in and out of traffic, overtaking everyone on the road, and not a single one of them would notice.

But driving through Snowdin wasn't all fun and games. Without the distraction of a good commlink game or an even better nap, Sans could see the kind of things that cities like this ended up with. Looking up would net you the sight of a layer of smog through which the snow fell, the pollution having turned it a sickly-grey. Apparently, no one thought to consider that these things kind of things happen when you burn gasoline in a damn cave. The smog was lit from below by a seemingly infinite number of lights, advertising low rent apartments, local eateries, and, of course, the latest products from each of the Underground's Megacorps. But it wasn't those things that bothered Sans the most.

It was the people. It was the monsters that you saw on almost every street corner. It was the poor folks without the good fortune to have some cushy corporate paycheck waiting for them when they got home, or even a home to return to in the first place. These were the people who would sink into a self-perpetuating pit of despair, too broken by life itself to be able to fix their situation, losing their minds to whatever vice they could find to distract from the horrors of their predicament. Sans felt a twinge of fear in his stomach. One wrong job and this was where he and Papyrus would end up.

Sans swallowed hard. _Best not to think of it_ , he thought to himself as he continued down the road, trying his best to focus on the drive.

* * *

Grillby's Bar was easy to spot. It wasn't the large neon sign that said "Grillby's" across the front that did that, especially when almost every other building had a sign twice as big and three times as flashy. It wasn't even the giant hamster with the green Mohawk and a leather jacket out front, checking people's commlinks as they walked in. No, it was the fact that Grillby's was the last single story building in all of Snowdin.

Sans propped his Thundersnail against the next-door building before walking over to the hamster in question.

"Mornin', Sans," the hamster said, nodding in greeting.

"Morning," Sans replied, giving a small wave. "How's the guarding biz?"

"Slightly more complicated than last week," the hamster retorted. "Grillbz is getting more adamant about checking ID."

"You let those two slime kids with the fake mustache in again, didn't you?" Sans mockingly inquired.

"I swear, they looked 18 to me," the hamster shouted in an effort to justify himself. "Anyways, now I gotta check the ID of everybody who comes in."

"Well then, it's good I ain't got no body," Sans joked as he gave another small wave and headed for the door, only for his wave to be stopped by a sudden iron grip.

Sans' normally lackadaisical look of amusement dropped in surprise a he felt the hamster's vice-like grip around his wrist. Looking at the hand, he could see it; cybernetics. It was mechanical, with servos and gears grinding away, giving no small indication that he wasn't going anywhere.

"When I said I need to check everybody's ID, that includes you."

Sans stared in shock for a moment, only to immediately follow it up with his trademark wide grin. "Hey, no need to get antsy. I got in on my commlink right here."

With his free hand, he reached into his opposite pocket and pulled out his commlink. He pressed a few buttons until a picture of himself popped up onscreen, complete with lines of information. He then held it up. Without letting go of Sans' wrist, the hamster grabbed the commlink and began to look over it.

"... Sgt. Geraldo T.J. Ramirez?"

Sans gave a smug shrug. "Would you believe I took a military correspondence course last weekend?"

The hamster gave Sans an indignant look before releasing his wrist and handing back his commlink. "You and your brother need to start getting better fake IDs."

Sans slipped his commlink back in his pocket. "He already inside?"

The hamster motioned over his shoulder. "Yeah. Tell Mrs. Ramirez I said hi."

Sans nodded. "I'll get on that," he scoffed as he headed inside.

"Hmm... What's an eight-letter word for 'unaware of the obvious', first letter 'c', third through eighth letters 'u-e-l-e-s-s'?"

Papyrus' question was greeted with a dismissive shrug from the monster on the other side of the bar, a being of living flame wearing a spotless suit, currently embroiled in the age-old battle between bar owner and stain-at-the-bottom-of-a-glass. The stain was currently winning.

Sans wandered up to the bar, giving the occasional greeting to the various other bar divers and ne'er-do-wells that called Grillby's their watering hole of choice. He gave Papyrus a slap on the back as he hopped into his seat. "Howdy, Mrs. Ramirez. How's the home life?"

"Shhhh! Can't you see that I'm concentrating?" Papyrus hissed back as he focused on his crossword. Sans took his hint and shifted his attention to the flaming bartender.

"Hey, Grillbz. SoyChup. Chilled, if you got it."

"Are you actually planning on paying for it this time?" came a smooth, sophisticated voice, held with an undercurrent of worldliness.

Sans shrugged. "Aw, jeeze. You know I would, Grillbz, but I haven't had a decent paying job in a month."

"Do you have something you want to say to me, Sans?" Grillby responded as he turned towards the back of the bar, reaching between various bottles to grab a plastic one filled with red sauce, emblazed with the phrase "TemShop SoyChup: FOOB!"

"Depends, Grillby. Is the new job you got lined up any good?" Sans inquired, unable to disguise the slight undertone of frustration in his voice.

As the bottle of SoyChup hit the counter, Grillby looked at Sans. "Look, if you want to argue about my quality as a Fixer for you and your brother, can you do it after you meet with the client? I specifically scheduled them a half-hour after I scheduled you, and you still ended up late."

Sans unscrewed the top of the bottle before removing the plastic stopped and recapping it. "Well, well, only a half-hour late by our client's clock. I think that's a new record," Sans announced before putting the bottle to his teeth. He took a few gulps before putting the bottle down. "Everything set up in the back room?"

Grillby nodded. "Head back when you're ready."

"Well, I've got everything I need," Sans mused as he looked over his SoyChup bottle. "You ready, Papy?"

"Just a moment, Sans," Papyrus announced. "I'm looking for a seven-letter word for 'ancient writing paper'. Starts with P. Truly, this will be one of the greatest tests of the Great Papyrus' great intellect!"

"I'm sure it will, bro."

* * *

Sans and Papyrus approached the door near the back of the bar. It was a room they knew well, but things never got any less tense going in.

"So, how do we approach this?" Papyrus asked.

"Standard operating procedure?" Sans posited.

Papyrus nodded. "Alright. You sit there and drink, and I do all the talking. Got it."

Sans reached up and gave Papyrus a pat on the back. "You got this, bro. I have faith in ya."

"Of course I've got this! The Great Papyrus has got everything, and then some!" Papyrus announced as he reached forward to open the door.

As the door opened, Sans and Papyrus got a look at the meeting room that had become all too familiar to them. A single, wood table, lit by a single hanging light, was surrounded by a couple of chairs. But there was something different this time.

"Wait a minute... where's the client?"

Sans' question was answered by a sudden flash, followed by a bizarre, distorted response.

"Right here."

As their eye sockets adjusted, Sans and Papyrus got a better look. Sitting on the wall opposite them was a television screen, on which shone the image of a large figure, cloaked in darkness. The figure gestured as they spoke, their voice discordant, distorted, and clearly altered by whatever method they were communicating with.

"Please, come in, and close the door behind you."

Papyrus went in first, taking up a position at the end of the table. Sans followed behind, closing the door quietly behind them before leaning against the wall.

"Thank you. Shall we begin?"

Papyrus leaned forward, chest thrust outwards. "Yes! We shall begin our discussions on the Shadowrunning you would have I, the Great Papyrus, perform for you!"

The figure on the screen sat silent for a few moments before speaking once again, "Well, you're certainly... enthusiastic."

Papyrus crossed his arms and chuckled. He turned and whispered to Sans, "They never expect enthusiasm."

"Um... I can still hear you."

Papyrus quickly sat up straight, a nervous smile on his face. "Um... Y-yes! We are prepared to hear your job offer."

As far as they could tell, the figure nodded. "Very well. I am in need of a... package delivery."

"Package delivery?" Papyrus inquired. "I think you may have the wrong number. Do not get me wrong, the Great Papyrus is flattered that you have called us for your postal needs, but if you need the number for a post office, I can search it up on my commlink for you!"

"Forgive me; I'm not explaining this very well... the package is somewhat... special."

"Special?" Sans interjected. "What do you mean, 'special'?"

The figure sat in silence for a moment, as though choosing their words carefully. "... For starters, my superiors and I are not currently 100% knowledgeable of the package's location."

"That's... not very reassuring," Papyrus nervously stated.

The figure held up his hands, as if trying to reassure them. "D-don't get me wrong. We know where the package is. We just don't know where within where it is... that it is."

Sans rolled his eyes as he took another swig of SoyChup.

"Very well," Papyrus continued, "Where is the package located?"

"Its location is currently to the west of Snowdin. That is why we wished to hire a local team."

"I see. That makes perfect sense- Wait a moment..." Papyrus rubbed his chin as he thought for a moment. "What do you mean 'west of Snowdin'? The Great Papyrus is certain there isn't anything 'west' of Snowdin."

"My brother's right," Sans called out, motioning to the wall with his SoyChup bottle. "We've been that way before. There's just a wall that way. The Underground ain't that big."

The figure seemingly nodded. "You are correct that Snowdin terminates at the cavern wall of the Underground at its western edge. But I can assure you that the package is that way. If you accept the job, we can give you the details."

Papyrus rapped his fingers on the table. "And once we find this package, where would we be taking it?"

"That, thankfully, is the easy part, though it would take some time. My superiors require the package to be delivered directly to Neo Home."

"Oh, well that seems perfectly—NEO HOME?" Papyrus shouted in sudden surprise. "But that's on the complete opposite side of the Underground!"

The figure nodded once more. "You are correct once again. We realize the distance, which is why we wished to hire a team capable of making the trip."

Papyrus looked to Sans for a moment. Sans looked over at the screen before giving Papyrus a concerned look. With that look given, Papyrus turned back to look at the screen. "Would you mind giving my brother and me a chance to discuss this in private?"

There was a moment of silence before the figure spoke once more. "Very well. I will disengage the call. As soon as you have come to a conclusion, simply press the red button to re-establish the connection."

As he spoke, a panel on the screen opened, revealing the button, cleverly labelled "red". Then the screen went black, leaving Sans and Papyrus alone in the room together.

Papyrus turned once again to look at his brother. "So, what do you think?"

"Honestly? I don't like it," came Sans' response as he took another drink. "You don't hire a couple of Shadowrunners for a delivery run. And that's not the only thing."

"What else is there?" Papyrus asked, a look of concern painting across his boney features.

After taking another drink, Sans slammed his bottle down on the table. "Well, for starters, he wants us to go talk to a wall. But I'm more concerned with the delivery location. Neo Home."

"What's in Neo Home? I've never been there."

Sans sighed. He pulled his revolver out of his sweater, looking it over. His attention came to rest on the emblazoned rubber corporate logo on the handle: an orb between two wings with three triangles beneath them. "That, Papy, is where Dreemurr Corporation is headquartered."

Papyrus gave a look of genuine shock. "Dreemurr Corporation? The largest corporation in the entire Underground?"

"That's the one," Sans responded. "If someone in that city wanted something delivered and they weren't part of Dreemurr, they'd want to meet us outside the city. But these guys want us in. You know what that means?"

"That we can get into their building using your gun handle?"

"Not exactly," Sans said, smirking a little. "It means that our latest client has to have some deep pockets.

"Listen up, Paps, no matter what he tries, don't let him force this job on us for anything under 10,000 Nugold apiece. We aren't doing something this iffy and underdetermined without correct compensation."

Papyrus' eyes lit up with excitement. He hurriedly rushed to the screen and pressed the red button. A light ringing could be heard before the screen reactivated, showing the figure once more. Another darkened figure, slightly smaller was leaning over and speaking, but quickly pulled back as the call started once again.

"I hope your conversation was helpful."

Papyrus nodded. "My brother and I have decided we are willing to aid you in your package delivery. But as you are aware, I, the Great Papyrus, am a professional, and my professional skills shall not come cheap!"

He figure nodded in agreement once again. "Of course. My superiors and I are very interested in the package's safe delivery, and so we have prepared what we believe to be an adequate payment of... 100,000 Nugold apiece, plus expenses."

Papyrus was about to speak when he suddenly felt something spray across the side of his face. Sans, in shock, had spat his latest drink of SoyChup upside Papyrus' head.

"Sans, what are you doing?" Papyrus snapped, reaching up to wipe SoyChup from his cheek.

"Papy, did you just hear what he said?" Sans called back with stunned amazement.

"Of course I did. Our client has offered us a reasonable payment of 100,000 Nugold api—OHMYGOSH!" Papyrus shouted, the realization of what had just happened hitting him like a ton of bricks.

The figure continued, "I believe this will be satisfactory?"

"Satisfactory?" Sans exclaimed, jumping forward and putting his hands on the table, the grin on his face the widest it had been in years. "Buddy, for that, we'll grab your package, wrap it up, put a bow on it, and deliver it to ya with a musical candy gram! You've got yourself a deal!"

"Well, that's swell," the figure responded. "In that case, you shall be needing this."

The figure pressed what appeared to be a button on his desk. When he did, another panel on the screen opened up. Inside, there was a commlink.

"Take it. It contains all the information you will need to locate the package, and also has a special account set up on it. With it, you may purchase anything worth fewer than 500 Nugold. Finally, while it cannot make any outgoing calls, I can use it to securely contact you whenever it is necessary. I hope you will find it useful in your journey."

Papyrus reached out and grabbed the commlink, taking it so that he and Sans could get a better look. It was a Dreemurr brand Asriel Commlink, the most high-tech commlink on the market. Though Sans and Papyrus were loath to admit it, even with the modifications limiting its functionality, it made their Mettaton brand Glamour 3s look like children's toys in comparison.

"And with that, I believe our current business is concluded. I look forward to your results, gentlemen."

Papyrus looked back at the screen and stuck out his chest. "You have made an excellent choice in Shadowrunners, sir! We won't let you down."

"I know you won't," the figure responded before the call was terminated, leaving Sans and Papyrus alone with a new commlink, a bizarre direction, and a 100,000 Nugold carrot on a stick for each of them. There was a bizarre silence between them for a moment before Sans spoke up.

"So... do you want to tell Grillby we got a 100,000 Nugold date with a wall?"

* * *

"You have made an excellent choice in Shadowrunners, sir! We won't let you down."

A smile came across his face at the genuine enthusiasm the taller one exhibited. "I know you won't." was the last thing he said to them before he cut the call. As the feed went dead, he sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Boss..." came a gruff female voice from the corner of his office, "you know you don't have to do these things yourself. You can always get one of the employees to do this hiring for you."

He sat up, adjusting his tie as he did so. Even sitting, he could look her right in the eyes. "No... No, I like to know each monster I have working for me. Even if it is through... illegitimate channels."

The female crossed her arms, the sounds of cybernetic gyros lost in the silence of the massive office they were in. "Alright. Whatever you say. It's not like they think you're in charge anyway, feeding them that superiors line and all. I'll go grab the doc and we'll start making our way to Snowdin."

He nodded. "Good. Contact me once you get there."

The female saluted. "Sure thing, Boss. You can count on us."

He chuckled. "I'm well aware of that. Take care of yourselves, alright?"

The female flexed her flesh and blood arm, rippling with muscle. "I got everything I need to take care of us right here!" she exclaimed, grinning in pride with sharpened teeth. With their final farewells said, she left the room.

As he sat there, alone in his office, he could feel the pangs of... something in his chest. He stood for a moment, taking a short walk across his office, stopping onto water a small a small flower garden atop one of his filing cabinets. Even this, however, didn't silence the feeling in his chest. As he walked towards a glass case, he glanced over its contents; a long, pronged weapon. _From a somehow more noble age_ he thought to himself before returning to his seat at his desk. Sometimes, he wished he could take it up and do what was needed himself, but his position forbade him such an option. He reached out with a muscular finger and pressed a button. An image popped up of the two brothers, taken by the screen he'd had shipped to Snowdin. He could see the genuine excitement on both of their faces. He sighed, drumming his fingers on his desk.

He knew why he did this. He knew that, in the end, the benefits to monsterkind would outweigh everything.

But it never felt good putting monsters in harm's way.


	3. Chapter 3

"So, what are you gonna do with your 100,000 Nugold?"

There was giddiness in Papyrus' voice as he ran alongside his brother's Thundersnail. The golden glow of magic followed him as he easily kept pace with the modest top speed of the moped. The afterglow of the generous offer had left both brothers in high spirits and with brilliant smiles plastered on both their mugs as they made their way to the west end of Snowdin.

Sans rubbed his boney chin, one hand still on the handlebars. "You know what I'm thinking? Ketchup, and I'm not talking the soy stuff; I'm talking real genuine tomato-based Dijon ketchup!"

"I love it!" Papyrus responded in joyous rapture. "It shall go perfectly with my authentic, state-of-the-art spaghetti made from... from actual spaghetti plants!"

Sans let out a hearty chuckle at his brother's comment. "Bro, with that kind of money, you could buy your own spaghetti plants. Grow and harvest your own noodles whenever you want." He couldn't help but beam with joy as he saw the stars sparkling in his brother's eyes at the thought.

His brother deserved this. They'd been staying in a small apartment, living job to job, making each Nugold stretch, eating nothing but cheap soy products like common squatters. _Well, I guess that's what we are,_ Sans considered. But Papyrus deserved better. All it took was this job, though, and they'd get better.

"Sans, can I actually get a real spaghetti plant?"

Sans nodded. "Sure, but you're gonna be in charge of taking care of it. Watering it, feeding it, taking it for walks..."

* * *

The west end of Snowdin wasn't exactly known as the life of the city. It was more often known as 'that place you really, really don't want to go, like, ever.' Ten years ago, it had consisted of a rocky plateau, and a small forest; the last such forest in the entire Underground. But, as was always the case, the inexorable march of progress and society had seen fit to crush the last remnants of nature, bulldozing the forest and erecting numerous warehouses for the Megacorps.

Sans shuddered as he and his brother explored the area on foot, the cold feeling of the steel and concrete buildings making his bones rattle. As much as he liked the city, he couldn't deny that the loss of the forest rubbed him the wrong way. Almost unconsciously, he began fiddling with the computer chip in his pocket. Maybe he could sneak off for a moment and-

"We're here!" Papyrus shouted, shocking Sans out of his thoughts and back to the matter at hand. He turned his attention to his brother, who was holding up their new commlink and staring intently at the screen. He then followed his brother's pointing to the 'here' he had found.

"... Papy, that's just the cavern wall."

True enough, before the two of them stood a massive rock wall, reaching as far in both directions as they could see and disappearing into the smog filled sky above: the bars of the Underground's prison. Behind them, barely 10 feet away, was the back end of yet another warehouse, this one emblazoned in the purple tones of Mettaton Entertainment. There wasn't much in the way of a package to be seen.

Papyrus scratched his skull, looking between the wall and the commlink multiple times. "I don't get it," he half-mumbled, "this is where the commlink says to go."

"I guess you could say our investigation has hit a... _wall_ , eh, Papy?"

"SANS!" Papyrus hollered.

Sans chuckled. "I guess we never expected to end up playing 'Where's _Wall_ do'."

"Sans, I swear, you make one more pun..."

Sans quietly raised a hand. "Come on, now, no need to start cater _wall_ ing."

Papyrus's eye twitched. A golden glow enveloped his hand, and with a quick swing of his arm, the commlink went flying directly at Sans' head. But even with the magic boost, Sans was too quick. With unmatched speed, he titled his head to the left as the commlink whizzed past, only for it to slam directly into the warehouse wall behind him with a metallic clang before falling into the snow.

Papyrus gasped in shock. "The commlink! I broke the commlink!" He raised a hand to his face. "Oh, curse my magnificently magical throwing skills! If only I wasn't so magically magnificent at everything!"

"Calm down," Sans responded, as he knelt down to pick up their recently thrown lifeline. "Let me look it over."

Papyrus moved closer and watched as his brother looked over the commlink. Surprisingly, the screen had remained intact. However, the back plate had come loose.

"Well, say what you want about Dreemurr," Sans mused as he turned the commlink over in his hands, before slipping a boney finger behind the back plate, "they sure know how to make things durable."

There was a snap of breaking metal as Sans pried the plate off, a noise which caused Papyrus to jump a little.

"Sans, what are you doing? You're breaking it even more!"

"I want to get a better look at this thing," Sans replied as he began looking over the commlink's circuits and computer chips. After a moment, he smirked. Reaching in, he grabbed a small black chip that had wired in. With a quick tug, the chip came loose, allowing Sans to look it over properly.

"... Really? This is all they had blocking us out? Huh... I expected more," Sans said with a grin as he pocketed the chip. He then flipped the commlink over and began fiddling with the touch screen. After a few seconds, the screen went black, only to switch back on.

"Please state your name," came a small voice from the device.

Sans held the commlink up to Papyrus. "There you go, bro. Say your name."

Papyrus cautiously took the commlink in his hand. "Um... Papyrus?"

"Registering... Welcome, User Umpapyrus. I am your new Asriel Commlink, by Dreemurr Corporation: Making Your Dreems Come True. What can I do to assist you?"

Papyrus looked up at Sans. Sans gave him a nod.

"Um... We're trying to find a package, and we haven't any idea where it is, other than that we're where it is supposed to be."

The commlink remained quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Would you like to use the Asriel Commlink's built-in thermographic camera?"

Papyrus scratched his head. "That's a thing?"

"Yes. That is what you have referred to as 'a thing'."

Papyrus shrugged. "Um, sure?"

The commlink screen suddenly went blank, only to turn orange seconds later.

"Um... Sans, I think I broke it."

"Your hand is over the camera."

Papyrus looked at the commlink for a second before grabbing the top of it with his other hand. As he let go, the screen ceased to glow orange, instead showing a mostly blue screen, save for a vaguely Sans-shaped orange blob in the middle.

"Check the wall. Maybe it'll find something."

Papyrus turned the camera to look over the wall. At first, the cavern wall seemed just as blue as the rest of the area, until-

Papyrus pointed at a point on the wall. "Right there! There's a warm spot!"

Sans approached that part of the wall. Examining it closely, he found what appeared to be an out-of-place rock. He wrapped his fingers around it as best he could, and gave it a yank. The rock came away, revealing a keypad.

"Well, hello there," Sans quipped as he looked it over. "What are you doing here?"

Before the keypad could respond (if it was even able; Sans wasn't 100% sure), Sans felt a tap on his shoulder. Papyrus stood there, holding the commlink out. Taking the hint, Sans took the commlink and examined it. There was a message on the screen.

'27745'

"Well, that's convenient," Sans chuckled as he typed the code in. After a moment, the brothers heard a loud clunk. They stepped back and watched as the rock before them slowly slid open, revealing a doorway.

The two brothers looked at the entrance other for a moment before Papyrus broke the silence. "So, how do you want to play this?"

"Strange hole in the wall leading to Dreemurr-Knows-Where, filled with Dreemurr-Knows-What?" Sans responded, reaching into his sweater to pull out his revolver. "I'm thinking diplomacy backed with firepower. If it talks, we talk. If it attacks, well..."

Papyrus reached in his jacket, pulling out two small pistols, each emblazoned with the TemShop logo. "Probably for the best," he said as he handed Sans the commlink so that he could handle both guns unhindered.

"Alrighty. After you, bro."

Papyrus gave Sans a determined smile and nodded before heading in, guns at the ready. Sans followed immediately behind him. As they entered, the door in the wall closed behind them.

On a Dreemurr Warehouse a few buildings down, a security camera buzzed quietly and continued to record.

* * *

Traveling through the door brought the brothers into a small, dark room. The only things they could see were another doorway and a small lit portion of ground, revealing a patch of earthen soil. Growing in the center of the ground was a single golden flower.

The brothers scanned the room, weapons at the ready. After a moment, Sans lowered his weapon. "No welcoming party? I'm disappointed."

"Do you see the package?" Papyrus asked as he moved towards the other doorway, his guns trained on hallway beyond.

Sans walked over to the flower. "Not unless we've been hired to deliver someone some golden flower tea," he replied as he knelt to look at the flower. He reached out his hand.

There was a sudden snap and suddenly, Sans found his fingers in the jaw of the flower. "GAH!" Sans shouted, yanking his hand back and pulling free of the flower's teeth. Now that he could see it better, Sans noticed the jagged teeth and deranged eyes of the flower. He quickly aimed his gun at this attacker of fingers.

"Wait." The flower suddenly spoke. "No need to get violent..."

"You should have thought of that before you bit me, you little-"

"You're here for the package, aren't you?"

Sans stopped his insult for a moment, a look of intrigue crossing his face. "You know about the package?"

The flower chuckled. "Golly, you have no idea what you've gotten yourselves into."

The clicking of the revolver's hammer gathered the flower's attention. "How about instead of ominous threats, you tell us where the package is? You could do that and we could get out of your petals, or you could keep irking the skeleton with a gun and see how well that works out for you."

The flower looked up for a moment, a toothy grin on his face. "The package you seek is upstairs. The first door in the hallway to the left."

Sans glared at the flower for a moment, never letting his gun trail from his target. "That was way too easy. Who are you, anyways?"

"I'm... Flowey. Flowey the Flower. I'm her best friend..." the flower responded, hanging his head to glare at the ground, his voice trailing off.

Sans grunted before lowering his gun. "You need help, Sunshine. Alright, we're gonna go grab the package. If it isn't where you say it is, we'll be back, and know that I tend to get trigger happy during second conversations."

Sans walked around the flower, catching up with Papyrus. He tapped his brother on the shoulder, and the two of them made their way down the hall. Behind them, they could hear the twisted snickering of Flowey trail off as they made their way deeper inside.

* * *

The hallway was long, but eventually the brothers came upon a set of stairs. Papyrus took the lead, with Sans following behind. When they reached the stairs' apex, they looked around. As far as they could tell, they were in a small house with a hallway to the left and room with a table and small vase of dead flowers to the right. Ahead of them was a doorway leading out of the house, through which could be seen a dead tree in the distance. The target was close. Papyrus took a few steps onto the new floor and-

"Goodness! Who are you?"

Papyrus jumped, before spinning around to face the voice he had just heard coming from the living room. Standing in the doorway was a monster, tall as Papyrus was, but wider. She was covered in white fur, and wore a purple robe emblazoned with the logo of Dreemurr Corp. In her hands, she held what appeared to be a slice of pie on a plate.

"Sans! Get behind cover! She's got a pie!"

Before anything could happen, though, both of Papyrus' guns where suddenly enveloped in a purple glow before they were yanked out of his hands and floating in the air out of his reach. Both Papyrus and Sans looked up in surprise before looking back to the woman. She had one hand outstretched, glowing in the same purple fashion. The look on her face was that of a disapproving mother.

"I shall ask again: who are you, and why have you brought weapons into my home?"

Sans took a few tentative steps forward, sliding his gun back into his sweater as he did so. "Calm down, ma'am. We come in peace. We were just being cautious, that's all. We found this place by accident. Ain't that right, Papy?"

"Accident? I thought we came here for-OOF!" Papyrus tried to say before an elbow to his gut cut him off. "I mean yes. We came here by accident."

The female monster looked the two brothers over for a moment. Slowly, her features softened. "Ah. I see. My apologies, Mr...?"

"Call me Sans. And this is-"

"I am the Great Papyrus! Greetings and Salutations!"

"Since you seem to be the first sane monster we've run into here, care to tell us who you might be and where we might be?"

The monster chuckled as she gently laid Papyrus's weapons at his feet. "Well, I am glad to meet you, Sans and the Great Papyrus. I am Toriel, and I humbly welcome you to the Ruins Corporate Refuge."

* * *

Despite their protests, Sans and Papyrus had been forcibly sat down to a snack and pleasant conversation with their new host. The two of them quietly snacked on cinnamon-butterscotch pie (made with genuine cinnamon and butterscotch, to the brothers' delight.)

"This refuge was created many years ago. It was one of the earliest built locations of the Underground, but as monsterkind's population grew, many moved away to found bigger cities to live in."

Sans swallowed part of the snack which had been provided before speaking. "Why didn't some just stay here?"

Toriel smirked slightly. "Well, a few did, but I think many just wanted to leave before the place became... _ruined_."

Papyrus spat out a portion of his pie as Sans let out a hearty laugh. "Wow. You're good, lady."

Toriel blushed a little. "Thank you. I don't have many guests, so I have a lot of time to work on my jokes."

Papyrus was the one to rapidly try and change the subject. "So, what is a 'Corporate Refuge,' anyway?"

"It's actually quite simple," Toriel responded, "I created this Corporate Refuge as a sort of... safe haven for monsters who didn't wish to live under the Megacorps' umbrella. No corporate influence is allowed in past the door. All the monsters here are free to live without worry of business oversight."

Both Sans and Papyrus were stunned at this revelation. Sans continued, "No corporate oversight? I didn't think there was a place in the underground that wasn't under one of the Big Four's umbrellas."

Toriel shook her head. "We don't allow any of them: TemShop, Mettaton, G.A.S.T., or Dreemurr."

As the companies were named off, Sans twitched a little. "Huh, that's... that's really something."

Slowly, Sans stood up. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have a little skeleton's room, would ya?"

Toriel blinked a few times, before giving a warm smile. "Of course. It's just down the hallway past the stairs."

Sans gave Toriel a thumbs up. "Thanks. I better get there before it's _toi-late_."

As he walked off, he could hear Toriel's laughter and Papyrus's nyehs of displeasure.

"Sorry, old lady," Sans mumbled to himself as he entered the hallway and gave it a good look over. There were three doors and a small table next to a potted plant filled with what he recognized as a 'water sausage'. Not wasting any more time, he went to the first door. With a turn of the knob, the door creaked open.

The room was heavily furnished. A shelf sat in the back next to a wardrobe, and an elegant rug covered the wooden floor. Right in front of him sat a large, comfortable-looking bed, probably leagues more comfy than any couch he'd slept on. But what grabbed his attention next wasn't some part of the room. It was the occupant.

As Sans stepped in, a figure was sitting up in the bed. They wore a blue sweater, lined in purple. As they rubbed the sleep from their eyes, they turned to look at Sans. This wasn't any monster.

"... A human?"

The human was as tall as Sans, and appeared to be about 10 years of age. They got out of bed and walked up to the skeleton.

"Um... Hi," Sans awkwardly commented. "You wouldn't happen to have a package for me, would ya?"

The kid didn't say anything. Though their eyes remained closed, Sans could feel their gaze on himself, looking up and down with a look of confusion plastered on their face. Sans sighed. "Nevermind. Out of the way, kid, I got a job to do."

As the kid watched, Sans began to turn over the room, checking the shelves and wardrobe, tearing apart the bed, and even rolling up the rug. In the end, his search turned up nothing.

Sans scratched his boney head. "I don't get it. They said it'd be here..."

Sans thought was interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket. Reaching in, he found the Asriel commlink. Tapping the screen, a message appeared.

'Bring us the Human.'

Sans stared at the message in silence for a moment. "Wait a second..."

Sans walked back to stand in the doorway, looking the kid over once again. They were small, strangely dressed, and had a profile similar to that of a convenient desk lamp.

"... We're supposed to deliver YOU to Neo Home?"

"You're not taking them anywhere."

Sans immediately pulled out his gun and spun around. Standing behind him, with every ounce of levity or kindness gone from her features, was Toriel.

"I don't know who sent you, but if you think that child is leaving this refuge, you'll have to take them over my dusty remains."


End file.
